what is the sun?
who is he but
a raging pool
of fire - swirling
endless triangles
of light
what is a flower?
who is she but
an undersized tree
a lost ballerina
twirling petals
like exotic candles
dancing with the light
who am i?
who am i but a breath
encapsulated by sensory
vessels, capillaries pulsing
vitality - red clay
or sculpted beauty
who are you?
who are you but
a faded echo in
a shrouded sea
of voices i will never
meet - and yet i would
send you to read...
my words.
but what are words?
and who are we?
This poem co-written thoughtfully with my gracious, strong, handsome brothers who continue to astound the world's literature with their greatness and professional humility.
(and yes they told me to write that too :)